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But what if she was waiting for him to speak first…?
He thought and thought and thought about it until he was exhausted and could think no more.
Insomnia was going to make the evening’s signing so much more miserable than he’d already expected.
He could barely focus on his work in the morning and didn’t feel hungry enough to eat more than a banana for lunch. Pauline was coming later today to take him to the signing—it took all of his willpower and a matter of luck (his dad’s country club had a dinner tonight his mother wouldn’t miss for the world) to keep his mother from being the one to bring him—so he was alone, utterly, painstakingly, every-minute-like-an-hour alone, until 1:00 when he heard the key turn.
“Scrubbing Cherubs!” came Brielle’s voice from the doorway. Archer noticed she no longer bothered with the silly motto.
He cleared his throat. He wasn’t going to ignore her. That would be incredibly stupid. Even bleary-eyed and short on sleep, he could at least be a halfway decent human being. “Hello,” he said, not looking up from his drafting table.
“Hi.” Brielle made a small amount of noise as she put down her cleaning equipment. “Oh,” she said after a minute. “Have you not eaten anything today?”
I guess she’s not going to talk about it, either?Part of him expected that—proof it was just a pity kiss for her, even if it meant so much more to him—but he couldn’t help feeling disappointed. He turned himself around halfway. “Dishwasher got fixed yesterday,” he said. It was the truth, although it was only half the story.
“Oh, right.” Brielle nodded. “You told me someone was coming.” She looked around at the counter. “Still… My job here appears to be done. Not a single crumb or coffee stain or anything!”
Archer couldn’t help himself. He laughed and maneuvered his chair to turn around completely. “You’d think you’d be happy you have less to do.”
She shrugged. “I’m here for an hour, whether you’re a slob or a neatnik. Some clients actuallycleanbefore their cleaners show up. I can tell. They think we haven’t seen a mess before and they get embarrassed.” She opened the dishwasher. “I can put things away at least… There’s nothing in here.”
Archer rolled over to the kitchen. “You got me.”
Brielle cocked her head.
“I haven’t eaten more than a banana since you were here last.”
Brielle’s eyes widened. “You didn’t even eat supper and you played basketball for a couple of hours?”
“Oh,” said Archer. “So you saw the whole game?” The game wasn’t off-limits, so they weren’t pretending the park hadn’t happened… Just that the kiss hadn’t.
“Practically! I didn’t exactly expect to see you there, so I only started paying attention partway through, but—”
Archer rubbed one of his biceps. “Then you know how badly I sucked.”
Brielle seemed genuinely flabbergasted. “I thought you were amazing.”
Archer stopped scratching to stare up at her. “I didn’t score a single shot.”
“Oh,” said Brielle. “I guess I didn’t really pay attention to that. I’m not actually a big basketball fan.”
Archer opened a drawer and rifled around for an energy bar just for something to do. “Neither am I, usually. I just like playing a couple times a week. It’s good to get some exercise in beyond the usual therapy.”
“Therapy?”
“Pauline helps me exercise almost every day. I… need to.” He tapped his arm with his energy bar. “Side effects are building up half my muscles a little too much.” He always felt self-conscious about how lopsided he looked. But he couldn’t get the same kind of muscle development in his legs, even if he did work them out with Pauline.
“I wouldn’t saytoo muchat all.” Brielle tapped her thigh and stared at the wrapped lunch substitute in his hand, clearly disgusted. “I can make you a better lunch than that.”
Archer chuckled and tore the wrapper off. “You’re my house cleaner, not my full-service maid.”
“I don’t mind if you don’t.” Brielle twirled a strand of dark brown hair that had fallen out of her ponytail around her slender finger. Coupled with the slight pout shape to her mouth, it was driving Archer crazy.
He ate the bar in just three bites, swallowing quickly, and went to back up to get out of the kitchen, but he started choking.
“You okay?” Brielle swooped in and lay a hand on the back of his shoulder, bending down to his level. Like when she’d touched his leg, he felt the heat wash over his face and he wanted to scream and push her away—but only because hereallywanted to grab her and pull her onto his lap. “I’m fine,” he choked, his throat dry.
“I’ll get you some water,” she said, grabbing a glass from the cupboard as familiarly as if it were her own home and filling it up from the tap.
